"It was too far away to even melt!"

"And your lamb's OK too!"

Camile stopped and stared at her friend.

"My lamb?" she said, "How come? I thought it was left in the classroom?"

"Someone must have rescued it!" said Sue, "Amazing aye!"

"Where was it?"

"Out here, with the sculptures!"

Camile ran to the crowd of other kids and pushed her way through. The box was there, and Sweety was tethered to a stick, nibbling flat out at the playground grass. She bleated when she saw Camile, and nosed about for a bottle.

Camile hugged the lamb and buried her face in its wool.

"Who saved her?" she said.

Mrs Bletcher was standing nearby.

"Did you save my lamb?"

"No," said the teacher, "We just found the box out here. It might have been the caretaker?"

I didn't say anything at the time, but I thought I knew who it might have been. The first thing that helped me decide was the pool of pink-white wax on the ground, just next to the lamb's box. It had dribbled in a trail from the ruins of the school room, a drip here, a drop there, all the way across the playground, and formed a puddle in the grass by the box.

And the other thing was the fact that there was only one wax sculpture missing.

Gerald's bird.